


The Chase

by accio_broom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chases, F/M, Not Canon Compliant, Panic, post-OotP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27509761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accio_broom/pseuds/accio_broom
Summary: A game of tag goes awry as Hermione suffers a flashback from the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 16
Collections: Hermione's Haven Harvest 2020





	The Chase

The field was full, the tall eaves stretching high towards the sky. It was almost time for the harvest, but not quite yet.

The sun was beating down hot on her shoulders as the young witch paused briefly to catch her breath. 

She spun around, trying to get her bearings but all she could see was the tall walls of maize. She couldn’t even see over the top of them, although that was to be expected when you were only 5’4, even on her tiptoes.

“Shit!” Hermione Granger wasn’t usually the type of girl to swear, but she was really lost. Despite this, she kept her voice low; she didn’t want the rare expletive to get her position away.

Her keen ears pricked cat-like, desperate for a sign that her pursuer was close but all she could hear was the sound of her own deep breaths and the eaves of corn clattering against each other, almost applauding her for her stupidity for heading this far into the vast field.

There was a sudden rustle to her left and she spun to face it, but there was nothing there.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

There she goes again. If her best friends could hear her, they’d be shocked but not appalled. They were amused when she did things like this, bending the limits of acceptable behaviour. In fact, they’d probably erupt into a fit of childish giggles that would last at least a day. But they were not around to hear her.

She took one last deep breath, willing her lungs not to explode before taking off in the opposite direction.

She ran as if her life depended on it, determined to put some distance between her and the people behind her. The eaves of corn caught in her hair and summer vest and scratched at her face, although they didn’t leave a mark. 

She tried her hardest not to panic. She knew the field had to end eventually, that it couldn’t go on forever. That would be ridiculous, and she’d seen some ridiculous things over the past five years since she’d discovered she was a witch. 

The field had to end; she just wasn’t sure where she’d end up. The best outcome would be that she ended up near the small lane that led back to the Burrow. She knew it well and could follow it with her eyes closed. There would be refuge at the Burrow. Knowing her luck though, she’d probably end up at the lake and would be forced back into the field to try another direction.

Her breath caught in her throat and a stitch started to form in her left side, right under her rib. She was definitely starting to feel winded. It would not do for her to have a panic attack right now. Her thoughts slipped back to a similar chase that had taken place just a few months earlier, deep in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. She was still theoretically recovering from the unknown curse the Death Eater Dolohov had fired at her. She was lucky to be alive; even though it meant having to take more than ten different disgusting-tasting potions every morning. She really shouldn’t be overexerting herself like this, but that’s what living through a war did to you.

Her heart pounding, she reached for the wand in her pocket. She would probably be punished for doing magic, but surely it would be okay since she was only a few weeks from coming of age. Surely given the circumstances the Ministry would be understanding. She almost let out a scoff; as if the Ministry would ever be understanding.

Before her fingers could curl around the vine wood, her feet were swept from underneath her and she found herself suddenly lying in the dust, flat on her back and with a heavy weight on top of her.

“Get off!” She fought against her captor whilst trying to reach back into her pocket for her wand. The weight impeded her movement, making it just out of reach. Wandless magic had been pushed out of her brain in her panic, despite her endless hours of practice.

All of a sudden, she felt a hot breath against her cheek and despite the danger, she found herself growing excited.

“Gotcha! You’re it!”

Hermione opened her eyes and she was immediately thrust back into reality. She was safe, she wasn’t in the Ministry. She was spending the summer at the Burrow with Ron, Harry, and the rest of the Weasleys. The group had been making increasingly desperate attempts to cheer each other up and if she could remember rightly, this misguided game of tag was George’s idea. But then he hadn’t been at the Ministry.

She let out a loud gasp as the set of ice blue eyes hovering above her regarded her worryingly. She was suddenly painfully aware of his weight on top of her and the familiar smells that over the years she’d begun to associate with a feeling of want and dare she say it, love. Freshly cut grass, peppermint toothpaste, unrolling new parchment to write an essay. It overwhelmed her, but also helped her to relax.

“Ron…” She said his name as if she was letting out a breath.

“Hermione? Are you okay?” He didn’t try to move off her, wanting to check first that she was alright. “Did I hurt you?”

_If I say yes and tell you where, would you kiss it better?_

She wished she were brave enough to ask it from him, but ever since she’d started to recognise that the feelings she had for him were more than platonic, she’d become painfully aware that he didn’t feel the same way.

She caught her breath and tried her best to rearrange her face into a friendlier smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just surprised me! I got so caught up in the chase and the atmosphere of the field. For a moment, I thought we were back at… well y’know…”

They hadn’t really discussed what had happened since they’d left school, more to protect Harry than themselves. He’d suffered the worst loss during their skirmish at the Ministry and they’d abandoned attempts to talk to him about it earlier on in the summer break.

“This was a stupid idea; I didn’t think about it…” Shades of concern and self-doubt travelled across his face. Hermione recognised them straight away and she was desperate to placate him.

“No, no, it was fun! Although I’m definitely not fit enough to play this against you and your siblings…” 

She laughed, hoping he’d take her lack of fitness as a good enough excuse to hide the real reason behind her heavy breathing. She said a silent prayer to Circe that she was a girl and the other indications of her enjoyment of the position they found themselves in weren’t as evident. She was so painfully aware of how close their bodies were and she could feel the pool of heat collecting in her knickers as she thought about what she might be able to feel if she were to just lift her hips ever so slightly. She wanted to try it, so badly, but her Gryffindor courage had chosen this moment to fail her. She felt her cheeks burn red as she thought of what that could potentially lead to. Nobody would be able to find them here in the tall eaves of corn. Eventually, his siblings would just get bored and go home, right?

He reached up to her hair and carefully untangled a twig from a knot of curls. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and she could tell he was trying his hardest to be gentle with her. It made her heart pound even harder and she wondered if he could hear it. He flicked the twig away and gave her a smile.

“Well as long as you’re okay…” He started to move and Hermione let out a small moan of complaint at the loss of his weight against her. The moment had passed, she hadn’t made a move and just like before, they were only friends again.

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows and watched him as he dusted himself off. He cast his eyes around the field briefly; his lanky form giving him a better vantage. He turned back towards her and gave her a sheepish grin, making her stomach lurch in pleasure. 

If only he knew what that did to her.

“So are you just going to lie there all day?”

She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, contemplating just lying down in the field and giving up on the game. Would he choose to join her or continue without her? He had enough siblings to play with after all. She considered him for a bit longer.

“Actually, I’m just trying to give you a head start. You know I’m going to get you back for that rugby tackle, right?!”

Ron had the decency to look aggrieved. “Uhm, I think you’re the one who needs a head start. Why don’t you start running and I’ll run after you and then you might get a chance to catch me!” He laughed at his own joke.

“Whatever Weasley! You just be careful; if I catch you, then you’ll be done for!” She pushed herself up off her back and dusted herself down. She stepped forward in a way that she hoped looked menacing and laughed as he pretended to flinch. Oh, what she would do to him if she caught him again.

“5 seconds Ronald, and your butt is mine!”

She felt her cheeks burn red at her choice of words and Ron’s sheepish grin turned into a smirk.

“Bring it, Granger!” He laughed and headed back into the rows of corn.

She laughed too and started following him, trying her best to remain hot on his heels; the rest of the Weasleys and Harry forgotten about. She only had one target in her mind now; it was funny how she could push herself when the reward was worth it.


End file.
